


Tug at my seams

by thecrackshiplollipop



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 22:09:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2126346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecrackshiplollipop/pseuds/thecrackshiplollipop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At one of the most important meetings of her career Rachel comes face-to-face with the last person she ever expected to see again. Cassie July. It's been five years since the woman walked out of Rachel's life and it turns out she'd been keeping a few big secrets from her. </p><p>They're both different people now, but have they changed enough to make it last?</p><p>(thanks, as always, to my beta: timorous-scribe)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tug at my seams

Rachel’s going to be late and, not that she wants to sound like the White Rabbit, but it is a very important date. She’s been a mess since she woke up; her curling iron died and she had to borrow Kurt’s (thank goodness they’re still too poor to live separately), her favourite blouse was at the dry cleaners, her best skirt’s zipper busted a week ago, and her high heels are two different shades of black. While she’s pretty sure no one will notice the difference in her shoes, or that she’s not sporting perfectly executed loose waves, she still manages to panic about it the entire cab ride into Manhattan. She’s so worked up by the time she gets to the restaurant that she almost twists her ankle clacking up the stairs to the new Whole Foods’ trattoria terrace. She only narrowly saves herself the embarrassment of falling on her ass by grabbing onto the nearby stair rail at exactly the right moment.

At least one thing goes right for her.

It’s a warm September afternoon, so she’s wearing her thinnest jacket and a lace chemise underneath. It’s not her amazing Vera Wang blouse that makes her look rich and professional, but it’s cute and comfortable and if she has to take the jacket off, at least she can show off her nice tan. The skirt is nothing special (again, the best one is broken), but at least it’s clean and in a coordinating colour with her jacket. The heels, despite being mismatched in shade, are comfortable enough and, according to Santana, make her legs look “bangin’”. She feels like she should be confident about nailing this interview. Meeting. Whatever it is. Santana even told her she should. But she’s not. She’s tense and on edge and after saving herself from a wipeout she promptly walks into a server’s pathway and almost knocks over her tray of empty cups.

She tells herself it’s just lunch, and takes a deep breath.

She can’t understand why the agent insisted on having a lunch meeting in the first place, but specifically in such an open and loud place. Really though, Rachel isn’t really sure of anything in the business, not even after five years bouncing between agents and gigs since Funny Girl flopped. This woman she’s meeting with - Gina Herschel - is supposedly the best agent in New York, though, and Rachel needs the best after the huge part she just landed. She’s been jumping through blazing hoops for weeks just to land a face-to-face.

The terrace is packed because, as a huge sign to her right reads, it’s the opening day, and the place is a sea of unfamiliar faces. She remembers the picture Kurt found on the internet - a striking redhead in her early 40s, with high cheekbones and an incredible sense of fashion - and looks around the terrace for a fair approximation of what she can remember.

“Do you have a reservation, ma’am?” A tall server in impossibly tight pants and a fitted white button down appears out of thin air with a clipboard and a condescending smile.

“I’m supposed to be meeting someone.” She frowns deeply and looks around him, just as a red head pops up from behind some blonde and Rachel can feel her whole body relax. The woman in the pictures Kurt found looked mean, but the woman calling her name and waving her over looks like she smiles genuinely, as opposed to for a living.

Rachel does her best not to trip over the stones on the terrace as she moves around the host, but she’s more than a little shaken by the fact that Ms. Herschel isn’t alone. She can’t tell if being late means she’s bleeding into another one of Ms. Herschel’s appointments or if she’s interrupting a lunch date that’s run late. She feels like it’s probably the latter, until the blonde turns around and Rachel’s fucking world is kicked to its knees because-

“Cassie!?”

Recognition falls over Cassie’s face and what had looked like the remnants of a smile disappear into total shock. It takes Rachel all of five seconds to figure out why because when she looks past Cassie she sees two boys sitting at the table, totally focused on their 3DSs and not Rachel.

Definitely the latter.

“Gina, you never told me you were here for an interview.” Cassie’s tone could cut with how sharp it is, but Ms. Herschel seems completely unaffected and just flaps her hands.

“Cassie, please. You would’ve never come!”

Rachel starts to panic, maybe she probably got the date wrong, or the time, and Ms. Herschel was probably waving down a waiter or something and since when is Cassie in a relationship with two children?

“Rachel! Right? Rachel Berry.” Ms. Herschel is getting up, holding a wadded up paper napkin in one hand and extending the other for Rachel to shake. Which she does, but she’s standing there awkwardly to Cassie’s side, frozen by mere proximity. “Sorry to sort of spring this on you but-”

“I should go,” Cassie’s voice is strained and Rachel feels herself tense up in response. It’s not going to look good if Cassie starts yelling at her in public.

“No, no. Cass, this is the girl I was telling you about! She just landed Rain in-”

“I know who she is.”

“Uh yes, Ms. Herschel-”

“Gina.”

“She was my teacher at-”

“Oh my goodness, you were a student at NYADA? Please sit, let’s chat.”

Gina Herschel is nothing like how she’s portrayed in the articles Kurt dug up on her. They’d painted her as some shrewd businesswoman, cold and calculating; a notorious womaniser with a mess of broken girlfriends left pining all over the world. Instead, she is all smiles and manages to usher Rachel into the only available seat at the table, directly opposite the two boys, who look up from their games once she's seated and eye her cautiously.

“Ye-ah. I’m- uh, it’s on my resume.” Rachel squirms under the boys’ scrutiny. It’s less distracting than Cassie ignoring her, but they’re doing some weird Children of the Corn act and haven't spoken since she arrived. One of them is lanky, with a sweet face, jet black hair, and brown skin. The other is much shorter and has that fresh-from-surfing look with floppy blond hair that obscures most of his face. Rachel just assumes he looks bored from the way he's slouching in his seat.

“Oh of course. I skim those, you know.” Ms. Herschel chuckles and signals for a server. “I really rely on my connections for information. Hungry?” She directs it at the table and the boys respond with enthusiastic nodding. Ms. Herschel glances at Rachel first, “my treat,” and then looks at Cassie with such an intense glare that Rachel’s pretty sure even Santana would wither under it. That must be where the ‘shrewd’ part comes in.

Cassie must be the latest conquest soon to be left pining.

As if Cassie would ever pine for anyone, Rachel thinks sourly.

Despite the total awkwardness of Cassie being there, she’s pretty sure if she doesn’t land a contract at this meeting she’s going to regret it forever, so she just nods politely and accepts a menu offered by the server.

“Ms. Herschel-”

“Gina, really.” Rachel bites her lip, earning a grin from Gina who then directs her attention back to the menu. “This place is brand new so I have no idea what’s good.”

“Pizza,” Cassie says, breaking her terse silence without looking up from the menu. “The pizza’s good.”

“How do you know that?” Rachel can’t stop herself, but she figures it’s at least benign enough to not be considered ‘prying’.

“They flew in pizza chefs from Naples. So, I’m guessing.” Cassie barely glances at Rachel, but they make eye contact anyway, and Rachel feels a hot shiver pass through her.

“Hm. I do like pizza.” Gina looks down at the menu and taps her chin. “Rachel, are you a vegetarian?” Rachel’s having issues swallowing the price tag of the caprese salad, so she just nods, smiles, and starts looking at the pizza menu. Who spends twenty-four dollars on a small pizza?

“Oh great. I’ve been trying my hand at veganism but, you know, I really love cheese. We can get the margherita and... boys?”

“Sausage and ham.” They haven’t even looked at the menu, too engrossed in their games, but they say it together in such a natural way that makes Rachel question the validity of those rumours about Gina Herschel’s love life.

“I guess we’ll be ordering two,” Cassie says, folding up her menu and waving for one of the servers hovering in the distance. “And a bottle of wine.”

“Ooh, yes, something expensive.” Gina claps and turns her attention back to Rachel, “so, tell me about this production of Out of Oz.”

* * *

“Rachel it was so lovely meeting you, really.” Gina motions with her free hand while signing the receipt. “I hate to dine and dash, the musical sounds marvellous, and if Wicked is any indication-” she starts rummaging around in her bag. “Here’s my phone. Okay, calendar. Yes… I’ll want to meet with you again, to go over the finer contract points. But we’ll do that at my office…”

Rachel is so exhausted from rehashing her condensed life story that she barely registers Gina’s mention of a contract. It’s only when Cassie moves, dropping her napkin onto her empty plate, that Rachel shakes loose the haze and looks at Cassie with a pinched, worried expression.

“Oh, but-”

Cassie’s hand finds Rachel’s knee under the table and squeezes lightly. “I’m not going anywhere,” she mutters under her breath, keeping her eyes on Gina who is still rattling on about meetings and schedules. For a terrible, panicked moment, Rachel wonders if anyone has noticed, but Gina hasn’t missed a beat and the two boys are completely engrossed in their games. It’s just them, and the heat from Cassie’s hand on the bare skin of her knee muddies Rachel’s thoughts, distracts her from the important matter at hand. She blinks a few times, affording a moment of clarity, and clears her throat.

“I’m available whenever you have time, Ms… Gina.” Rachel bites her lip and forces herself to keep her eyes on Gina.

“Well. Let’s see,” taps her chin and swipes the screen of her phone. “Tomorrow is pretty packed, but... if you’re available around three I can squeeze you in before I meet with Barb-”

“Barb?” Cassie squeezes Rachel’s knee and she bites her lip again, realising the desperate note in her voice was extremely obvious.

“Hershey. Sorry. I should’ve pegged you for a Streisand fan,” Gina just winks, tapping her nose with her finger. “Well, that’s settled. Cassie, since the boys were so well behaved, I’ll take them to the movies. You can pick them up after?” Hearing ‘movies’, the  boys scramble out of their seats and start shoving their game consoles into their backpacks with all the pent up energy they’d been hiding throughout lunch. Rachel watches them with undisguised amusement as the taller one slings his backpack onto his back and the shorter one tries to cram a black beanie onto his head.

“Yeah. Of course. Thanks, Gina, I really needed the afternoon.”

“No problem, hon. Come on Emre, say goodbye to Miss Berry and Cassie.” Gina turns her attention back to Rachel, “tomorrow, three. I’ll see you then?” Rachel just nods, her whole world condensing to the feeling of Cassie’s fingers flexing on her knee.

“Bye,” the taller one says, nodding at them before edging away from the table, “I’ll hail a cab, mom.” He says it easily enough and then takes off running, bumping into empty chairs on his way across the terrace.

“Oh no you won’t! Em! Ugh.” Gina spins on her heel, calling over her shoulder as she chases after her son. “Tyler, we’ll be at the corner!” And then she’s off, speeding through the maze of tables on the terrace like she’s not wearing impressively tall high heels. Rachel smothers a laugh with her hand, watching Gina struggle to catch up with her son.

The other boy, Tyler, looks like he’s doing his best not to roll his eyes as he kisses Cassie’s cheek. Cassie says something to him in a low voice that Rachel does her best not to hear, something the boy just nods in response to, and then Cassie pulls him into a hug. “Be good, baby, and don’t forget you have a class tonight at-”

“I _knooooowwww_ ,” he whines, twisting his body to loosen Cassie’s hold, “mama I gotta _go_ , Em’s gonna make me sit in the middle!”

“Yeah okay,” she reaches up and sweeps some of his hair out of his face, “see ya, kid.”

“Bye mama,” he says, sounding more exasperated than ever. “Uh, bye … Miss Berry,” he says, glancing from Cassie to Rachel a few times. Rachel wants to say something to him, but then Cassie waves her hand to dismiss him and he’s off, bounding between the tables like a dog chasing a rabbit.

Rachel waits until he’s disappeared down the steps in pursuit of Gina before she turns her attention back to Cassie, who is just looking at her, waiting.

“He-”

“Don’t.”

“But I feel like I deserve-”

“No, stop right there. You don’t deserve anything, okay? You’re not my friend, you’re not my... you’re nothing. No one. And you never were. I thought I made that abundantly clear the last time we saw each other.”

“Oh.” Rachel winces, unbidden memories flooding back from the tight little box she’d buried them in. Suddenly she’s 19 and watching Cassie stalk out of her dance studio at NYADA, a flash of blond curls the last of her Rachel would ever see. “Cassie...” She says, unable to keep the hurt and anger from her voice, and Cassie’s jaw clenches in response. Her hand is still on Rachel’s knee and the pressure of her grip is practically the only thing keeping Rachel from running. “You have a kid? And… and… you’re in a... relationship with my agent. Who also has a kid?”

“You haven’t signed on with her, yet.” Rachel frowns at the tightness in Cassie’s voice. “And… Gina’s just my friend.” Cassie rubs at her shoulder, something Rachel remembers from years ago. It means ‘shut the fuck up’. So she does, but she doesn’t stop staring at Cassie with a totally baffled expression. “What?”

“It’s just. He’s so grown up.”

“He just turned eight in June.” Cassie’s eyes flutter closed and Rachel watches the ligaments in her jaw work as she clenches her teeth.

“That means... I mean, you had... while we were...”

“Yes.” Cassie sighs slowly, eyes still closed, and tilts her head back so the sun slanting against her back hits her face and makes her skin look like gold. “It’s complicated, Rachel.”

“Ah.” Rachel blinks, letting it sink in for a moment. “Of course. I’m sorry. I’m just... really stunned.” Rachel reaches for the half-full glass of wine she’s been nursing through lunch and sits back in her chair. She finishes the glass slowly, watching Cassie work the muscle in her shoulder. The questions are welling up inside of her as each second passes, but she knows that pressing Cassie would only result in Cassie leaving her. Again.

Rachel puts the glass down on the table and opens her mouth to say something, but Cassie finally opens her eyes and looks back at Rachel with a stern, unwavering look. “All you need to know is that his father was never in the picture. Like you.”

“Oh.” Rachel licks her lips and grabs the wine bottle from the centre of the table but Cassie stops her and passes over her untouched glass. Rachel doesn’t question it, she just swallows the contents in one gulp and shakily pours more from the bottle. Cassie looks impressed for just a moment, a smile twitching up the corners of her mouth.

“Look, Rachel. Gina has been my closest friend since before we had our kids. Her ex-partner was pregnant with Emre when we met through our doula’s house party for expecting parents. She drags me to a lot of lunches with her clients, because she thinks I don’t get out enough. I’m telling you all of this because, if you do sign with her agency, this won’t be our last luncheon. I don’t need you staring at my son or acting like we used to have sex.” Cassie’s hand is on Rachel’s knee again, like she’s urging Rachel to understand by gripping her leg. It takes a lot of willpower for Rachel to muddle through the wine haze and get past the realisation that she missed Cassie’s touch.

“Right. Of course. I wouldn’t. I mean, it’s your life. I understand.” She flushes, but it seems to do the job because Cassie nods and gets up to leave. Rachel wants to stop her, but she’s not sure what she could say to get her to stay.

“I have an hour and a half to kill before the boys are out of their movie, so I am going to get a massage.” She grabs her purse from the back of her chair and smiles a little tightly at Rachel, any familiarity between them falling away as she steps out from the shade of the umbrella. “Congrats on the role, by the way, I knew you’d land something big after Funny Girl flopped.”

Rachel downs the last mouthful of wine in her glass and tilts her head to look at Cassie. Silhouetted against the sun, blond hair glowing like a halo, Rachel can just make out the furrow in her brows and pinch of her lips, like she has something else to say but can’t find the right words for it. It dawns on Rachel that she has no idea why they never worked out; she _still_ knows Cassie better than she’s known anyone else.  “Thanks, Cassie,” she says as lightly as possible, letting Cassie off the hook for whatever else she wanted to say. She only catches a glimpse of Cassie’s posture relaxing, turning back to the empty bottle of wine on the table before Cassie leaves.

She was never very good with watching people walk away from her.


End file.
